


OOO-ooh!  It's Just Me, Myself and I...

by AnonymosityAnnie



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: M/M, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 16:31:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12461604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymosityAnnie/pseuds/AnonymosityAnnie
Summary: ... got *me* (for LIFE?)_____Wherein Rick needs a helluva LOT to "get him through the night"... only to be faced with more than he can handle._____After Morty's close-rape-counter of the anthropomorphic *cavity-waiting-to-happen* kind and the mutually traumatic burial of their dead selves in their new non-Cronenberged dimension, Rick has reached a dark and destructive impasse... and under the added influence of whatever the hell he's undoubtedly been smoking to numb himself, is consequently driven down an even **darker** and more DESTRUCTIVE "path".





	OOO-ooh!  It's Just Me, Myself and I...

Rick was already deliriously drunk and emotionally wrung out by the time he finally finished excavating the fresh corpses in the back yard of the Smith family household and dragging them down to his sub-laboratory... which was perfect, really, as he knew he'd need to be a helluvalotta BOTH for what he was getting up to. Times had been hard as of late even by _his_ standards, and Rick? Rick was even HARDER.

He dropped the bodies down the hatch- listening intently as the long fall further crushed _already broken_ bones alongside hemorrhaged internal organs and taking one last, cautious look around the garage to ensure that he was absolutely alone and unseen before heading down himself.

The bodies were heavier than he anticipated in his blitzed state, but he managed to lift the Morty and sling him over one shoulder before grabbing himself up by the collar of his coat and dragging the body further into the room. Throwing the mangled _him_ over one narrow end of his examining table at the center of the vast space and rounding it in quick succession, he took the extra bit of time to carefully arrange the smaller body opposite his own into a more appealing position... then grabbed a handful of wavy, dark locks and arched the kid's head back to one side so that he stared with dead eyes into his grandfather's equally lifeless orbs.

He made a vague mental note to himself regarding the universally limitless muscle-relaxant he'd whipped up earlier that day, patting his coat pocket to ensure that the syringes were still there and readily accessible... then turned his back on the horrific scene he'd set and headed upstairs with a self-satisfied little smile that gradually transformed into an ominous leer with every purposeful stride of his long legs.

Morty was, regrettably, becoming all too accustomed to being dragged out of bed in the wee hours of the night by one bony adolescent ankle... but not so much to the crypticness his grandfather wore like a blank mask or the way his eyes burned into Morty's, unpleasantly jolting him into wakefulness as he gathered his grandson up against his chest and carried him the rest of the way out of his bedroom and downstairs.

The older man's dangerous gaze shifted away from the frightened boy at that point, refocusing on where he was going as he unconsciously combed fingers through the soft hair at the nape of Morty's neck and sent uneasy chills down his spine... fingernails occasionally digging into his skin harder than strictly necessary as his grandfather, seemingly lost in thought, dreamed a little dream. Morty frantically wondered, as he hung squirming from his unyielding arms and swaying with each of his slightly unsteady steps downstairs and into the garage, if Rick might actually be sleepwalking.

"Keep y-your fuckin' mouth SHUT, M-M- _Morty_." Rick whispered in his ear, the only words he'd uttered since bursting into Morty's bedroom suddenly destroying that semi-hopeful idea of high functioning unconsciousness in one growled clip of an order as they came upon the discreet little hatch in the floor at the far end of the garage.

It was already open, an otherworldly glow emanating from within. Rick released Morty at the very edge, letting him drop without warning onto the scant slab of space between himself and the gaping hole- a careless nudge to the kid's back with one bony, impatient knee throwing him alarmingly off balance.

"DOWN, Morty."

Morty, startled and still wobbling, turned back to meet the man's glare with a livid one of his own and immediately wilted under the cold intensity of Rick's expression before doing as he'd been told... nervously dropping down onto the built-in ladder within the ordinarily hidden hatch and descending the steps.

The laboratory beneath the garage was alight with flatscreen monitors and a veritable myriad of indiscernible gadgetry Morty couldn't BEGIN to identify, much less _comprehend_... and at the center of the disorientingly vast room was a steel examining table. Morty spotted it with a lurch of anxiety wrenching his stomach as he scaled the final few feet of the ladder and turned to more thoroughly scan his new surroundings, Rick following close on his heels and then bypassing him entirely with strangely calm strides as an automatic light blazed into existence directly above the objects of Morty's mounting concern.

"Don't make me DRAG you over _here_ too, Morty. I-I-I've done enough heavy lifting for one night." He called impatiently over his shoulder, and without really realizing he'd moved at all Morty was reluctantly following after him.

He came to a stop, however, several yards shy of the single sickest scene he'd ever beheld and watched in a stupefied daze as Rick silently went about various preparatory-type tasks. His face was utterly unreadable, the bodies on the table stiff and noncompliant underhand until administered mysterious injections fished from one of countless pockets that rendered them as pliant as the average narcoleptic. The scientist was all business as he proceeded to strip the entirely-TOO-familiar corpses on either end of the table of their clothing, hap-hazardously tossing article after article into a filthy pile underfoot... sneaking in briefly amused little glances Morty's way every so often.

The kid gasped audibly when his grandpa gave one of the smaller corpse's ass cheeks a sharp little smack, immediately wishing he hadn't and trembling more violently than ever as the man heard and suddenly heavy-lidded eyes shot from the pleasingly red handprint he'd left there to _him_ ,  accompanied by a wicked smirk.

"Last chance, Morty." Rick warned in a tone of voice that belied the impending threat. "Get the- g-get the fuck over here. Aaaaaaaaaall the fuckin' way _over here_ , Morty. NOW."

Morty whimpered- desperately wanting to believe that there was some insanely good reason for the versions of themselves that they'd buried just a few _fleeting_ hours earlier to be there in that secret room with them, still heart-breakingly lifeless and muddy-bloodied atop the table. He conceded to the request, however, already knowing that no good could come of whatever events were about to unfold... just more INSANITY. Already knowing that even _LESS_ good could come of refusing to obey the man beckoning him forward.

Morty slowly approached Rick, coming to stand beside him at the end of the table occupied by the other him. Hands snapping up to grab either of his hips, Rick positioned Morty behind his dead self- stepping in snugly behind him and reaching around to spread the scrawny legs hanging off the table into a forced split bent at the knees over either edge paralleling the battered body attached. He pressed into the small of the trembling kid's back none-too-gently with his own hips, a rapidly hardening length all too apparent against the tense spinal column, until Morty was standing as far between those legs as he could get.

... Then roughly grabbing his waist again in warning ("Do NOT fight me on this, you little shit" going unsaid and, yet, somehow distinctly _understood_ ) with one hand, the other snaking over his rib cage and down the front of his pajama pants to wrap around a confused and terrified erection.

Rick stroked him with a firm hand and something very much like how Morty had always guessed love must physically feel- leaning into him from behind to breathe hot against his neck, lips just barely there as they grazed his skin and sent chills up his spine. Morty gasped at the forceful touch and then fell silently into shock, Rick gasping in turn at the feeling of his grandson's entire body going completely rigid in his embrace as his young dick slowly rose to the occasion despite intense nausea and mounting fear. Rick's own member was achingly hard and riding the crease between soft and pleasantly plump little ass cheeks- until, seeming satisfied with the dubiously intense degree of arousal he'd coaxed from the otherwise catatonic Morty, he thrust forcefully against him once more to drive him forward.

Hand gone still around the base of his shaft, Rick smoothly guided Morty's dick into the tight little ring of muscle between the doppelgänger's ass cheeks as he drove him forward. Morty's chest began to heave as the reality of his situation came crashing down on him, pressing back against Rick in resistance- but a sharp and incredibly painful squeeze to his exposed humiliation corrected him in the skip of a heartbeat, reminding him that he'd already been warned once about that and would seriously regret any further attempts at disobedience.

There was a sudden pause, Morty allowed to withdraw with a soft gasp as the hand manipulating his dick briefly left him before coming back slick with saliva to stroke and lubricate his length- once again fixating it on it's intended target. Morty felt tears burn at the corners of his eyes from Rick's unsolicited, caressing stimulation as the swollen tip met the tightly rippled little hole and made himself look anywhere but DOWN- wide eyes landing with an earth shattering crash upon his own battered, bloodied, unresponsive face instead.

Morty expected to sink into a clammy chill- but his dead self was inexplicably _searing_ with a delicious heat as Rick drove him deeper and deeper inside, eventually releasing his hold around the base of the kid's dick so he could slide in to the hilt.

"Stay." Rick growled into his ear, giving him a little pat of darkly sarcastic encouragement on the ass as he stepped back and then around the table for the second time that night. Morty, too dumbstruck to do anything else, didn't budge despite his overwhelming desire to pull free of his tangible mirror and _run_.

Rick surveyed himself with dark amusement as he moved away, feeling his cock jump at the gruesome sight combined with the nearly constant sounds of Morty's pitiful whimpers behind him.

Morty, a wobbling wreck of a thing desperate for distraction in that moment, watched Rick step up behind his dead self and felt his heart rate speed up _impossibly_ as the man roughly ran his hands up and down his own long spine... something warm and genuinely affectionate and crazy-fucking-CARNAL twinkling in his eyes before his blown pupils eclipsed the subtle spark of humanity and his hands came back down to roughly shove long, limp legs apart.

He handled himself with surprising cruelty, a stark contrast to how gently he'd treated the dead Morty's mangled leftovers prior to bringing his own Morty into the picture. Rick slid a dry finger into his other self's tight asshole with minimal difficulty- pumping the slim digit in and out until his sharp fingernail drew blood and he was able to add a second finger, then a third. The corners of his mouth twitched into a subtle-but-eerie little smirk as he gave Morty a devilishly pointed look and removed his fingers, cock plunging inside in their wake... visually devouring the sight of the kid trembling with his dick fully sheathed inside himself and making a snap decision to to maintain eye contact indefinitely as he spoke.

"MOVE, Morty."

Morty gasped- chest suddenly heaving as he shook his head "NO", eyes pleading with Rick to recant.

"I said fucking _move_ , Morty." Rick hissed again, voice low and steady. "Or ELSE."

Morty's eyes filled with tears at the vague hint of a serious threat, and he slowly pulled out of himself and froze with nothing more than the tip of his dick still inside... immediately missing the tight and all-consuming heat even as his stomach heaved at the knowledge that he was strictly _meant_ to thrust back inside.

"R-R-Rick, PLEASE... I don't wanna..." He begged, tears sliding down his flushed cheeks. "P-p-please don't make me do this, Rick, I c- _can't_ -“

"You _can_ ," Rick snapped, cutting him off as he slammed his cock all the way into himself with a violent thrust accenting his every spoken thought. "And you WILL.

OR. _ELSE_."

Morty's head dropped and hung then, eyes squeezed shut and quivering lips tightly pursed to stifle the sobs seeking to claw their way up his throat and out into the dead air between them... and he pushed back into his body, shuddering as his dick was once more _enrapt_ in ecstasy.

" _That's_ it, Morty." Rick encouraged a little more gently. "G-go FUCK yourself, baby boy."

He chuckled darkly, watching Morty slide all the way in and out of himself before- with a tearful little glance of a question up at Rick that was met with a heartbreakingly stern, clipped nod- reluctantly picking up the slow but steady semblance of a rhythm.

His nausea subsided as pleasure took the wheel, Morty hating himself all the more for it as felt his hips beginning to act of their own accord. He lifted his gaze slowly to look upon himself again... from his own lifeless eyes over to the dead Rick's, one yellowed orb hanging by a gruesome thread of lacerated flesh from it's socket.

... And with a particularly hard thrust that rocked him to his very core with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, he found his eyes reluctantly locked with the _living_ Rick. HIS Rick, who'd already been staring and responded to the reciprocation by pounding into the ass he clenched with violently heated fervor.

Morty felt himself speeding up, face flushing as his eyes shifted nervously and began to drift back where they'd come from...

"DON'T, Morty!" Rick barked with a brutal snap of his hips- impaling himself and feeling a fresh gush of blood wrap him in silky hot slick as the kid met his eyes again, shaken and strung out. " _Eyes on me_ , Morty."

When Rick slid out of himself a long and painfully tense moment later, he noticed that Morty unconsciously followed suit and had to bite back the diabolical grin threatening to light up his face. Keeping his expression carefully cold, he slammed his cock back into the abused channel as hard as he could... head spinning for a brief and blissed-out moment as he absorbed Morty's shocked cry of intense pleasure, confirming that he'd unwittingly mimicked the man's movement again.

Morty moaned mournfully when instinct took over- body wracked with pleasure as he and Rick fell into an increasingly rapid rhythm, fucking the Thems on the table harder and harder. Morty gasped sharply with each pounding thrust into his own searingly tight, suddenly blood-splattered little ass. With Rick's eyes burning into his own, it began to feel as though they were fucking EACHOTHER... and the feeling, though dark and disturbing, had both of them damn near out of their minds with lust.

"Fucking _monster_." Morty breathed angrily as Rick redoubled his efforts yet again, brutally pounding into himself and groaning long and loud as Morty helplessly matched him thrust-for-thrust.

"You LOVE IT." Rick seethed with a pointed _grunt_ as he did his best to puncture as many vital organs as he could manage with his deadliest weapon to date, the first he'd ever brandished prior to inventing countless close-seconds. "You fucking _LOVE_ the monster, Morty.

R-right now, Morty? Right now, you couldn't stop even if you truthfully WANTED to."

Morty screamed incoherently at him, face screwed up in concentration as he struggled with reaching/ repressing his impending climax... and then, to his profound dismay, Rick pulled free of himself with a scream of his own and pumped his cock with mounting urgency until he was exploding all over the body before him.

Morty found himself zooming in on the sight of Rick shooting long, ropy spurts of cum into the air and was suddenly suspended in time and space. He sobbed under his grandpa's mocking leer, knowing full well that he was now slamming his dick into himself of his own desperate accord rather than his all-but-forgotten fear of the man's retaliation.

"Who's the monster now... huh, M-Morty?" Rick whispered, casually tucking himself back into his bloodied slacks as his breathing gradually slowed and steadied and he sauntered over to Morty's side. "Y-y-you can stop now if you really want to, _Mooooorty_... I-I-I'm BEYOND good."

Morty screamed again, screamed right in Rick's smirking face as his thrusts slowed only slightly and became punishing slams of bony hips against ass. He fucked his own corpse with violent abandon- desperately _needing_ the one thing he didn't WANT- until Rick stepped up behind him and leaned in close, his heat and scent driving Morty right to the edge of ecstasy.

When Morty finally climaxed, Rick's breath hot against the nape of his neck, it was the single _best_ and unequivocally WORST moment of his young life so far. He couldn't even bring himself to pull out... just came in the dead Morty's exquisite little ass, the twin to his own ass, with a devastated wail of euphoria before finally freeing himself of the body with a wet _pop_ and falling back limp and spent into Rick's waiting arms.

He sobbed openly, lashing out at the man every way he could- all jabbing elbows, sharp fingernails and gnashing teeth- but he was inevitably overcome by Rick's superior strength and his own exhausted weakness.

He collapsed, Rick dropping to the floor with him before he mindlessly dragged himself up onto the man's lap- wrapping his arms around his grandpa's neck and legs around his waist to stop the shakes and hiding his face in the warm little crook under the man's chin.

 

"Thaaaaat's it, baby... THAT'S my boy." Rick cooed in mock tenderness, letting Morty curl up into his embrace as he sat there calmly rocking them both and smiling into dark locks of sweat-drenched hair. "You've learned a valuable lesson here tonight, Morty. You're never, n-never gonna be free like Grandpa until you learn to stop caring so much about anything and _every **fucking** thing_ , Morty...

YOURSELF included."

He felt Morty shudder in his arms, deciding that he'd made his point and running his hands up and down the boy's back... genuinely comforting him for a brief and seemingly infinite moment.

"I-I-I'm gonna give us a few minutes here, Morty...". He whispered gently. "Gonna let you take a little time to qu-quiet the fuck down with this crying bullshit, to _recover_.

... Then we're- we're gonna trade off, Morty." He revealed, his embrace tightening painfully around his grandson as he recoiled in shock and tried to scramble free of the surprisingly strong arms. The gentle voice he'd adopted gradually transformed into a growl as he continued to speak softly into his scalp. "I-I can't fuckin' WAIT to see how _your_ tight little ass feels, Morty.

Just- just keep breathing, Morty... and thinking about my cadaver, over there, how good he's gonna feel around your dick. He's a, a gr-GREAT lay, baby boy."

With Morty once again wrapped up in his crashing, crushing grief and Rick wrapped up in- and _around_ \- HIM, neither noticed when their decidedly evil counterparts dropped down to the floor beneath the laboratory hatch... dark curiosity piquing at heights previously unthinkable as they closed in on themselves, absorbing the shocking party they'd crashed and sharing a mutually heated glance without needing to say one thing aloud as their devilish plans for the c-137's took a sharp and sudden turn _south_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So Rick, apparently, DOES need something to get him through this night... though it would seem that he's going to wind up with much more than he **counted on**.
> 
> The end is what it is: The End. The arrival of their "evil" selves is not necessarily indicative of a continuation of the story... mostly because I feel as though adding upon the **implied**/ AMBIGUOUS ending would be nothing more or less than needlessly repetitive.
> 
> "Repetitive" is really just another word for **uuuuuggggghhhhh**... BORING. Right? Right. 
> 
> ;P


End file.
